The Tri-ward Campout was this past weekend, and even now, on Monday morning as I type this, I can't decide whether or not it was a good thing that I went. It probably depends on who you ask; if you ask me, I probably shouldn't have gone.
I wasn't going to go. Up until Friday afternoon, I was 95% sure I was going to stay home, sleep in my own warm bed, and not worry about seeing people who provoke my cry/vomit/murder reflex.* One of the main reasons I didn't want to go was that I didn't have the same reason to go that I did in past years; in 2010 and 2011 the only reason that I showed up was to be in the skit, and for some reason, I couldn't make myself feel excited about performing this year like I did in the past. This was quite depressing. Even more depressing was the fact that I ended up not performing at all that night, but since I neither play acoustic guitar nor moonwalk, I would have had nothing to please the crowd.**
After feeling miserable during the majority of the performance segment of the campout, I decided that I'm just not capable of having more than 24 consecutive hours of fun--there's an expiration date. The before-sunset part actually didn't suck very much at all! Here are some highlights:
- I took out a rowboat, but unlike last time, I was not alone! It's quite nice to have a handsome man to row you around...or to mock you as you attempt to row the both of you around. I'm not great at rowing, guys.
I look like I'm doing a whole lot better than I actually am.
In my defense, one of the oxen thingies was wonky. - It wasn't freezing! This was one of my other reservations, that it would be freezing and I would get a cold (again). But it wasn't! My new sleeping bag kept me very warm in the night, and in the day it was warm enough to even tempt me to go swimming in the lake (but I didn't, primarily because I had no swimsuit and only one bra).
- The mandatory group activities weren't awful, nor were they mandatory enough to keep me from sneaking off and having my own fun (or go back to my cabin and brush my teeth, as the case may be).
After reading all of this, you might wonder, so why do you think you shouldn't have gone? Maybe it's because I'm self-centered and weird.*** The last time I lived in Boston, before I left, I was kind of on top of the world. I felt finally as if I had arrived, had become what I was supposed to be. I had friends, status, a reputation (that wasn't built solely upon one very specific aspect of my life). Then I moved away for a year, and now that I'm back, I feel like I have to start all over again from the bottom. I not only have to figure out who I am, but I also have to convince the rest of the world (stake) that I'm that person. And that's hard. It's even harder when you're in the middle of the wilderness surrounded by people who are having much more fun than you are.
I guess what can come out of all this is that I can try to make next year's campout (because I'm going to go again because I'm a masochist who doesn't learn her lessons) a little bit better. Maybe I'll turn into the person who is more than what she seems.
*Don't worry, I don't actually have a "murder" reflex, but murder is probably less embarrassing than crying or vomiting in public.
**Plus, it would have been hard to deliver a showstopping number while experiencing all of the aforementioned reflexes.
***But who isn't?
No comments:
Post a Comment